In Dentibus Veritas
by Reyuna Yukimura
Summary: The story in which Tony is a vampire who's allergic to blood, a bunch more stuff happens, then true love is found :  mostly in that order. Gibbs/Tony. R and R!
1. Chapter 1

Ok, so, new fic! For those of you who read my old stuff and are like, dammit woman! What happened to those? Well, ok. I'm working on it. But life has been tough and I have massive writer's block, except for NCIS fic apparently. That show is one that I've been rather obsessed with as of late. BAH. I'm sorry v.v I'll finish em, eventually.

Now, **ONWARD TO NEW FIC A/N**!

Heyo! Let me start off by saying that the entirety of this story is written. It's not all that long to begin with, spanning maybe 5 chapters, and I just sort of wrote it all in one sitting. Then, I chopped it up, cleaned some of it up, and after a lot of inner turmoil, decided to put it up here. This means that I only have to clean and post.

**The damned plot bunny wouldn't leave me be!**

That being said, I'm new to this fandom, like, totally new; that is to say, I just finished watching the first few seasons recently, so there may be some discrepancies here and there. I'm using ignorance and artistic license as my excuse. The next thing is that this features supernatural!Tony, key-to-Tony's-survival!Gibbs (sort of), and a lot of discrepancies with vampire lore. That's my fancy way of saying that I basically created my own vampire-lore.

Other than that, watch out for **SLASH** (of the Gibbs/Tony variety). **YOU ARE WARNED**. The next thing is that it's probably not all that well written; I haven't had the time or motivation to REALLY clean it up. Don't get me wrong, it's readable. But it's definitely not the best writing out there. There will be bad writing, bad grammar, OOC, and a bunch of other things about it that make me cry.

BUT DESPITE ALL THAT, PLEASE **R AND R**! REVIEWS MAKE ME HAPPY AND MAKE ME WANT TO POST MORE.

And please, for the love of all things holy, do not flame me; it saps at my will to write. Concrit is allowed, and even asked for. But flat out flaming? Please don't. I'm not making you read this; so if you don't like it, go elsewhere. SO YEAH. **R AND R** (IN A GOOD WAY)!

**One Last Note:** this first chapter starts off slow, things kick off for real in the next chapter.

* * *

><p>As Gibbs finds out later, it takes him 5 years, 3 months, and 13 days to realize it, which is odd for him because he looks through people and assembles things about them as easily and as instinctively as breathing. It usually doesn't take him more than about five <em>minutes<em> to figure a person out, much less five _years_.

His team and everyone else on the planet, in order of importance, think that he's got magical powers, or ESP.

Abby squeals that she's going to '_learn to do it one day, and then it'll be _your_ turn for a heart-attack! Not that I want you to have a heart-attack! I meant it figuratively! Because heart-attacks are bad for someone your age! Not that I'm saying you're old or anything!_'

Ducky says that it's, _'Simply uncanny! Why I remember this one fellow from my university years….'_

McGee and Palmer stutter a helluva a lot, and Ziva tries to pretend that it doesn't freak her out even though it does.

Gibbs takes pride in those reactions, more than he ever lets on, because only Tony knows what he can do and even that's only because the other man is the same exact way.

So much for that, though; the ex-marine can't help but scoff because despite all his talents, it's still taken him years to figure things out, and even then, he still doesn't even have the full picture. If he did, have the whole picture that is, he wouldn't have to sitting here, trying to burn a hole through his SFA's head instead of getting work done.

Then again, he figures that he can cut himself some slack on this because shit, it isn't as though this is something that pops into mind with a single glance at someone, least of all Tony. The very same Tony who is capable of revealing absolutely nothing by talking about _everything_; the same Tony whom Gibbs is convinced could have been an actor, and a successful one at that, had he not been drawn to law enforcement.

The very same Tony who knows how his boss operates, and _knows exactly how to work around it_.

Still though, a part of Gibbs wishes he could have seen this coming because then…

…then, Tony wouldn't be sick. Because right now, that's what he's doing, being sick that is. And Gibbs doesn't mean the regular kind; he means possibly _terminal_.

Even thinking it in passing, in an obscure sense, it enough to give Gibbs shivers, but when McGee turns to him with a, 'you ok, boss?' he gives him the evil eye until the probie looks like he's about ready to cry, then turns away to stare a hole in Tony's head again.

It's slowly killing Gibbs; the knowledge that Tony, vibrant, excitable, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, borderline _adorable_…

God he hates even having that word in his vocabulary, much less having to use it; but it seems an apt description for Tony, who reminds him of an exuberant puppy half the time and a serious guard dog for the rest. He's the cheer of the team, their (but mostly _Gibb's_) very own loyal Saint Bernard. He discretely keeps everyone stable, and he's something Gibbs' been thankful for since the damned day he met the man in Baltimore.

Tim depends on Tony to whip him into shape, to keep him from being the quintessential geek. He may not know it, but he depends on Tony to be his friend, to turn him into a better agent, to keep him living in the real world.

Ziva depends on Tony to keep her human, to keep her sane with every case, because each and every one is always too close to home. He's her ticket into the team, her only chance of properly fitting in, and she knows it but doesn't acknowledge it because she hates it.

Abby depends on Tony to be the younger and older brother in turns, depending on what turn life takes. She depends on him for unconditional love, the very same love she freely offers to him.

Ducky, well, he doesn't depend on Tony, per se. But he does enjoy the younger man's antics (stupidity?), and dote on him much the same way that a grand-parent would. And Tony, well, Tony does his best to keep the older man in the loop, to bring the older man out of his morgue as much as he possibly can. Ducky knows and appreciates what he does and indulges Tony as much as he possibly can, even if he doesn't think the efforts are quite necessary.

As for Gibbs, well, he can't even begin to describe what Tony means to him, mostly because there are blurred lines everywhere and things are confusing, and it's a place that he'd rather stay far, far away from because he isn't sure he wants to know exactly what's going. All he knows is that he has _feelings, _and that touching them with the proverbial ten foot pole would unleash a can of worms that he isn't sure he can deal with. But in the end, Tony is _his own_ and valued beyond all reckoning.

To think that something could take that away from them all, from him, is _terrifying_.

Hell, that's a bit of an understatement; it would be more accurate to say that Gibbs has never been more terrified _in his life_.

Considering that he's an ex-marine who's seen more than pretty much of all NCIS combined (death; destruction; _desert storm_), considering that he's seen Tony survive the damned _plague_, that's saying a lot.

But then again, maybe it's not.

When Tony had the Plague, lips blue from lack of oxygen and hope dwindling to nothing, there had been someone to go after. Gibbs'd had no doubts about his agent's survival rate because there had been someone to squeeze answers from. There had been someone to blame, someone with answers whom he could shoot, kill, _destroy—_until a solution had been provided and things could be fixed.

Admittedly, the end results had been less due to answers and more due to sheer stubbornness and Tony's willingness to follow his Boss' orders. But Gibbs had still felt better, had still felt as though he could prevent his agent from dying because things had lined up and dammit, he'd ordered his man _not to die_.

Now though, all that doesn't even matter because it's not on him. There's no one for Gibbs to threaten into submission, no obstacle to overcome. This in turn leaves him feeling cornered and endlessly scared, which pisses him the fuck off.

But more than anything else, what pisses him off the _most_, beyond words, and pushes his very limited capability to not kill things over the age of 14, is the fact that there _could_ be something to fight. There _could_ be something to overcome.

If only Tony would _spit it out_.

Fuck, even if his SFA refuses to specific, the least he could do is to atleast acknowledge that something is wrong, as far as Gibbs is concerned. But DiNozzo, the brain-dead little jackass, is absolutely refusing to give up anything.

Gibbs is so fed up that he sort of wants to kill the other man, himself.

Questions regarding his health result in DiNozzo peeling off with a, 'I'm fine!' and a grin wide enough to distract the most focused of people. Any further questions are thrown off with big drama over minor injuries including but not limited to paper cuts (_Oh my god, boss! I'm bleeding! Holy crap holy crap holy crap, you think it needs_ stitches?), sore fingers (_I'm forced to type too much, boss! Something needs to be done about this before they fall off!_), and, on one memorable occasion, head trauma (_you give out too many head-slaps, boss! One more and I could end up_ brain dead!).

All inquiries about his well-being are fobbed off with an expertise borne of years of experience. And for a forthright man like Gibbs, well, at the risk of sounding redundant, it's _pissing him the hell off_.

Shit, Gibbs is pretty sure that he wouldn't have even noticed if it weren't for two things.

One, he's spent the last couple of years doing what can only be described as 'tony stalking,' which actually amounts to him shamelessly using his marine training to covertly stare at his agent with varying degrees of…something.

Gibbs hasn't actually figured out what that 'something' is, yet.

Second, well, he may or may not have caught Tony vomiting blood in one of the more rarely used men's bathrooms a few hours ago. Combining that with the things that he's noticed about Tony for a long time now, such as the near constant drop in his energy level and appetite, the way his skin is starting to have less of its normal glow, and the fact that Tony gets this lost look in his eyes sometimes when he thinks that no one is looking. Well, it can only add up to the fact that Tony DiNozzo _ill_, and refusing to own up to it like a good little agent.

Gibbs is pretty sure that Tony doesn't know that he knows. He's just enough of a bastard to want to keep it that way so that he can cash in on _that_ particular upper-hand when the time comes.

God knows he's going to need it when he tries his very damndest to wrest the information out of the definitely ailing and unforgivably obstinate senior field agent. Overall, someone's gonna pay, and Gibbs is going to make sure that Tony names some names in order to make that happen, no matter what. He will use any and all advantages, upper-hands, methods, _whatever_ because _no one_ and _nothing_ is allowed to hurt Tony, _including_ his stubborn self.

All that resolve and internal mumbo jumbo aside though, Tony is still ill, and has been for _years_. And Gibbs, well, he's been happily, annoyingly unaware.

And now that he _is_ aware, it's hard as hell to find a way to fix it because Tony is _not cooperating_; in fact, he's flat out _refusing_ without so much as a single 'no.'

Gibbs can't help but rub a hand over his eyes; trying to stave off the headache he can feel forming.

God, he needs coffee; atleast _it's_ never been a major pain in his ass.

As he makes his caffeine run though, bee-lining for the elevator with the finesse of someone who does it multiple times a day, the last thing he hears is McGee's cry of outrage and Tony's happy laughter. Gibbs is pretty sure that Tony only pulled that prank to make 'his' probie forget about the angry glare that his boss had just dished out.

In turn, that only makes Gibbs more resolute. He will preserve this no matter what; he'll get Tony to give him answers.

* * *

><p>Of course, when Gibbs finally manages to get his recalcitrant agent good and trapped in his basement, (having invited him for dinner, then forcing the other man to sand the boat, then promptly locking the door and standing in front of it with a deadly glare), things only get worse.<p>

"You're dying," he says to start off, the glare deepening on his face, "Wanna tell the rest of the class about it?"

He's expecting a name to a disease, he's expecting to cart that name off to Ducky, whom he expects to come up with a neat little cure.

He expects things to be simple, or about as simple as it ever gets when one's name is Tony DiNozzo, anyway.

What he doesn't expect is the blank look in Tony's eyes or the reaction he has immediately after.

Laughter.

Tony starts laughing, probably at him, in a way that would have Gibbs concerned about the other man's lungs if it weren't for the fact that _he's being laughed at_.

As it is, he can't even get a word in edgewise; the brat is laughing loudly enough for it to echo in the otherwise quiet basement, and every time Gibbs thinks he's stopped and tries to say something, the laughing starts all over again.

All in all, Gibbs feels that the headslap that he delivers is _very_ well deserved.

"Dammit DiNozzo! What the hell is _wrong_ with you!"

This is _serious_, dammit, and Tony _damn well_ needs to understand that. Even if he doesn't give a shit about himself, Gibbs gives a shit about him. In fact, he cares almost more than he's willing to admit, to the point where he's scared shit_less_ right now. Dammit, he doesn't think he'll survive if Tony doesn't; fuck, he _hopes_ he doesn't survive if Tony doesn't. He doesn't want to live through losing a lov—losing someone that important _ever_ again.

So, the bottom line there? Gibbs needs to get answers because he doesn't want to die; worse still, _his_ survival hinges on _Tony's_. So, he digs in, grits his teeth through the unending laughter, and asks the question again. This time, he uses his very best Gunny voice, the one that says, 'give me what I want, now, or I will make sure to make you _suffer_' and then gives the mental imagery of hailing fire, brimstone, and _scrubbing the men's toilets with a toothbrush_. It's never failed him before and he doesn't expect it to start now.

Unsurprisingly, it works. Unfortunately, it doesn't work the way Gibbs expects it to.

Tony _does_ stop laughing; his spine unconsciously straightens and he's got his game face on without even realizing it.

What Tony _doesn't_ do, is give Gibbs straight answers; instead, the younger man proceeds to adopt an uncomfortable look (which is odd for him because he's _never_ uncomfortable) and stutter his way through three or four lies.

He starts with, "I'm fine, boss," goes on to say that he's, "simply got a cold," then comes back to, "seriously, it's all good!" Through it all, there's a shit eating grin on his face and a hint of mirth in his eyes, as though they're saying, 'I know something you don't know!'

Gibbs is not happy, to say the least, so he ups it a notch. He goes from 'Angry Gunny' to 'himself without Coffee,' and proceeds to give Tony a look so evil, that the other man actually flinches.

But he still doesn't talk, damn him.

And so, with no other choice, Gibbs goes into his final form of terror: 'Angry Marine Gunny Gibbs with no coffee, sleep, _and_ twelve months celibate.' He doesn't even have to _fake_ that last bit, which makes him _even_ _surlier_. Damn Tony, anyway, that's his fault too. If he didn't pop into mind every damned time Gibbs decides to pick someone up, well, Gibbs is pretty sure that he'd be getting laid.

With that in mind, Gibbs doesn't feel even vaguely guilty about trying his damndest to make his second-in-command piss himself.

He feels even less guilty (which is easier said than done) when said second-in-command refuses to break. Admittedly, the other man looks terrified, as though his very life is flashing before his eyes, but he's still not talking.

_Damn_.

Well, Gibbs decides, two can play at this game.

He proceeds to give Tony a (wounded) glare and walks over to work on his boat. He isn't concerned about the younger man making a break for it for two reasons. One, Gibbs is better shape than Tony is; if the other man decides to run, then Gibbs can merely take him down and sit on him until answers spill out. Two, well, there's really only one good reason. The other one involves pride and all that jazz on his SFA's part and god knows that Tony isn't above dropping pride to get results.

Bah, option one is good enough on its own anyway.

Gibbs is fully planning on simply giving Tony the silent treatment; he hopes that silence will break him in a way talking hasn't. Unfortunately, he doesn't get to follow through, which really sucks because this plan would have worked. Gibbs can feel it.

As it is, Tony decides that the exact time Gibbs starts in on his silent treatment method is the most opportune moment to prove Gibbs' suspicions, and proceeds to throw up all over the floor.

When Gibbs looks down, the floor is covered with, _ding ding ding_, _blood_.

And at that point, Gibbs doesn't even care about answers anymore because he's too busy being concerned (and damned feelings anyway; they keep screwing him over) and trying to make sure that Tony isn't about to die.

He can't help but utter a quietly desperate reproof though.

"Dammit, Tony! Tell me what's wrong, damn you! I can't…I have to…"

After that, he's too busy trying to help the younger man through the retching to say much else.

* * *

><p>It's another half hour before everything settles; Tony's finally done vomiting and he's just sort of tiredly sitting on the floor next to Gibbs, quietly allowing the older man to clean it up.<p>

Gibbs is more grateful for that one concession than he can ever admit. But, as thankful as he is, it just isn't good enough. So, he presses in one more time, this time running his fingers through the other man's hair in an unconscious gesture of affection, as a way of grounding himself while his world was falling apart.

He doesn't even notice the way Tony leans into his touch when he asks one last time. He's desperate for answers now because this is the second time that he's seen Tony be so ill, and he isn't sure that he can handle seeing it again without being able to do something about it.

This time when he talks, his voice is full of uncharacteristically quiet pleading, as opposed to the commanding tones he'd used before.

"Tony, please. You've gotta let me in. Please. I can't…"

Gibbs can't even finish that sentence before he falls to silence; wounded eyes trained on his SFA, and desperation shining through in a way it hadn't in years.

Then he has to turn away because he's bared his soul and Tony's still clammed up. At that point, all he can do is go and get a damn cloth, clean Tony up, and hope that the other man can take care of himself.

Considering said man's track record, Gibbs doesn't allow hope to cloud his mind.

* * *

><p>It's another half hour before anything else is said; Gibbs has resigned himself to being in the dark about this…<p>

Well ok, he's actually nowhere near resigned; Gibbs fully plans on dragging Tony, unconscious and hog-tied, to Ducky later on.

But still, he's still sort of pissed that it's come to _that_, that Tony hasn't said anything.

He wishes that Tony would talk to him.

He doesn't realize that he'll be wishing that he could _eat his words_ in just a few minutes.

Then Tony does open his mouth and it's too damned late. Dammit, he makes a mental note to teach Tony a lesson about rubbing salt into the wounds of already (hurt and) pissed off Marines even as he turns a glare on the other man.

He isn't quite positive, but he could swear that he just heard Tony utter, "Boss, I'm a vampire."

Gibbs can't help the twitch that escapes him, unable to decide between glaring spitfire and waiting for the punch line before punching Tony in the face, his hand ready to deliver a smack no matter which he chose.

Of all the damned things that Tony can say, the best he could come up with is _this_?

It's bad enough that Tony's lying to him, but such a flimsy one? Gibbs can't help but feel hurt; he feels as though Tony should trust him more than this by now. Extra feelings on Gibbs' part aside, they've been friends for years, have literally saved each other's lives on more than one occasion. Hell, the ex-marine has opened his home to Tony in a way that he hasn't for anyone else, and that's with nothing said on how he's opened up his _heart_. He can't really fathom why Tony would hold back something so important, _especially_ from him.

_Dammit_.

He lets loose by punching Tony in the gut, and shit, he knows he's in a bad place because Tony's cry of pain isn't making him feel even remotely guilty. Hell, he wants to do it again.

"Ow! Boss, what the—just ow! What the _hell_!"

Well, isn't that the question of the day?

Gibbs has no words for his fury, so he doesn't say anything. All the panic, hurt and the sheer uncertainty have balled themselves into the pit of his stomach and into his fists and he knows that in a few seconds he's going to become incredibly violent.

A part of him wants to unleash that side of him on Tony.

Instead, he climbs up the stairs, wrenches the door to his basement open, and points out; his hands are shaking from the rage and the hurt and fuck –it-all, he wants Tony out.

Right. Fucking. Now.

Before he does something that he'll regret, even more than he regrets now.

He can't deal with this.

Tony, for his part, merely looks confused and upset, and Gibbs can't help but become even more furious because goddammit, _Tony_ has no right to feel that way. _Tony_ has no right to feel anything but shitty right now.

In fact, as far as Gibbs is concerned, Tony has no rights— period—because he is a fucker, and not in the good way.

He's a total bastard, and an _asshole_, and why the hell isn't he high-tailing it out?

Gibbs spends two seconds looking at his second, unable to help himself, and watches as a look of enlightenment registers in that pretty face.

Then a smile replaces the enlightenment and that's the last straw.

Gibbs needs Tony _out_.

It's at this point, that things get a little hazy; later on, Gibbs couldn't retell the events in any cohesive manner if he tried.

Just as the ex-marine is about to bodily haul Tony up the damned stairs and kick him out of the house, preferably _literally_, Tony let's his fangs out.

Gibbs has to stop mid-stride because holy shit, Tony's just _let his fangs out_. The ex-marine doesn't even question as to whether or not they're real because Tony does it as though it's a natural part of, so casually and with none of the awkward fumbling that would come with fake teeth. Besides, his gut's telling him that this is (unfortunately, unbelievably) real; and his gut is pretty much wrong.

"I'm being dead serious!" Tony yells out in the meantime, pointing at his mouth before grimacing, "Sorry, boss! I keep forgetting that you're just human!"

Oh.

Gibbs doesn't have the capacity to sit there and question Tony as to what the hell _that's_ supposed to mean, the whole human bit; he doesn't even have the capability to be insulted because he's too busy staring at the other man's mouth and fuck damn those _fangs_. Suddenly, Gibbs is staring at Tony's mouth for a whole 'nother set of reasons than his normal ones and he isn't quite sure he's comfortable with that.

But it's like he can't help himself.

A quick look reveals that they're now sharp, pointy, and holy mother of god, or should he be saying something like 'unholy spawn of Satan,' now?

Not that it matters because Tony's a goddamned vampire and it's sort of like 'oh' except not really because the ex-marine has no clue what that is supposed to mean. He doesn't know if this changes anything, if anything is going to happen, if he ever going to see Tony again; and he's too damned fixated to panic about any of _that_ right off the bat.

He has better things to panic about, like the fact that _Tony is a fucking vampire_.

"Oh…"

* * *

><p><strong>End of Story AN:** I hope you liked! :) And again, R and R please! Expect an update in two weeks!


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: **I'M SORRY THIS IS LATE. IT'S EXAM TIME. THAT'S ALL I HAVE TO SAY FOR MYSELF –headdesk-

**Warnings:** watch out for **SLASH** (of the Gibbs/Tony variety). **YOU ARE WARNED**. The next thing is that it's probably not all that well written; I haven't had the time or motivation to REALLY clean it up. Don't get me wrong, it's readable. But it's definitely not the best writing out there. There will be bad writing, bad grammar, OOC, and a bunch of other things about it that make me cry.

**In Other News: **Thanks for the reviews, peeps! That honestly about ten more than I expected xD but I'm grateful for every single one.** A HUGE THANK YOU TO: keembur, ladynarutochan, lizrat66, FantasyFlinger, DS2010, Natalie, LIGHTNSHADOWS, jazzy14, combatcrazy, WorldAblaze, angelscatie, MalB, karlii, My Alternate Reality, OrnateDragon!**

**Also, thank you for the many, many alerts and faves!**

**More Warnings: **Ok, so, there's OOC and liberties; I'm not quite sure what there's more of, but there you go. Liberties with vampire lore and now, with Gibbs' blood type. YAY. :D

That being said, here you go! New chapter! PLEASE **R AND R**. It makes me feel like people actually like my stuff. That, in turn, makes me happy :D But don't flame; it makes me very upset.

* * *

><p>Gibbs doesn't know how long he sits there, feeling detached from the world; but he does know that his brain processed a million possibilities in that time span. Every possible idea passed through his mind at light speed, from staking Tony (hey, he's a marine; he can't help if he's been trained to annihilate threats) to screwing Tony (which is a regular enough thought process, but <em>damned<em> if there aren't even more problems now).

But the end result is still the same; he still doesn't know what to make of any of this.

Then there are those burning questions, questions that he should feel guilty for (mentally) asking even though he knows that it's not his fault he's thinking that way. There are questions like: Is Tony still Tony? Is that even his real name? Is all of this, the past ten years and everything entailed, a lie?

Can Gibbs still trust his SFA?

He can't help but grimace; no one had known what Tony was, the other man had hidden such a huge part of himself and that sort of thing tends to put a damper on the whole trust thing.

But then again, Tony had never done anything to hurt anyone, criminals and feebs notwithstanding.

Ugh.

Gibbs can't help but let out an internal sigh, even as his face remains stony. Again, his damned instincts are fighting each other, with one part wanting to still cling to his long standing friendship with the other man (with an eventual hope for _more_) and the other part clamoring to end the threat before the the threat ends him. He doesn't know what which part to listen to, and worse still, he can't answer_ the_ question, a question that he's never had a problem with answering before.

What the hell is he going to do now?

* * *

><p>All things aside, it takes him about ten minutes before he can even make himself speak, and even then it's a weak sounding, "Uh..."<p>

He isn't sure what the hell to do. On one hand, aren't vampires supposed to be dangerous? But looking at Tony, who is now doing a mean imitation of a panicky little girl, it doesn't seem as though the man would hurt a fly much less anything bigger or more sentient.

Hell, Gibbs has to stop himself from smiling despite everything, because Tony is all sorts of adorable already and that mental image, where Tony is looking all big-eyed and innocent, isn't helping at all.

But he digresses.

All things aside, the man is possibly one of the best undercover operatives that NCIS has ever had, hell even possibly one of the best the FBI and CIA have ever seen if the continual job offers are anything to go by. Tony could probably hide just about anything from them and not even break a sweat.

Case in point, there's the whole mess with Jeanne.

There's also…hiding being a vampire for the _many years_ that Gibbs has known him…without ever dropping the ball.

And it hurts; it makes Gibbs think things that scare him a little. He's thinking about things like killing Tony before Tony kills him; hell, he's thinking of maybe just killing Tony out of spite because the man is making feel completely off kilter.

The insistent reel of images in his head does not help matters.

He sees Tony sucking life blood out of some poor soul, killing people left and right, breaking some poor innocent's neck; and he wants to stop that whole thought process because a huge part of him is totally adamant that Tony would never do that. He knows his SFA better than that.

But does he? Really?

Despite himself, he's thinking of Tony in all the worst ways, with every single bad scenario he's ever heard of or seen in campfire folklore and movies. He's stereotyping Tony even though he doesn't really want to. Hell, he doesn't even have a point of comparison since, damn, Tony's the first ever goddamned vampire that he's ever seen. But still, his brain won't stop with the pictures and the battling and the commentary.

It's human nature, he figures in the end, to expect the worst of other people.

There's still a tiny part of his brain that's hissing at him in disappointment though. 'Even if you know and care for them more than anyone else,' it keeps asking, 'even if you're all they've got?' And that's got him feeling all sorts of low, like he's scum of the earth for even going there.

He then proceeds to make things even worse for his conscience; he looks up at Tony, his SFA, his _something really fucking important, _and his mind-set sort of does a 180. The hissing whisper is suddenly a whole helluva lot louder and there's a lot more (self) loathing thrown into the mix.

And in a snap, all of that (and everything else) doesn't even matter to Gibbs anymore though because instead of staking Tony, he wants to just hold the younger man and make everything ok.

That's just how heart-wrenching the look on Tony's face is.

His second-in-command looks like an innocent man about to be burned at the stake which, now that Gibbs thinks about it, is probably exactly what's going through the other man's mind right now. It's the sort of look that hasn't been on his face since just after Gibbs met him in Baltimore, a hunted look, as though he's expecting to be killed or worse, fobbed off to someone else like so much worthless trash.

It's the sort of look the ex-marine never wants to see on Tony's face again.

Then, suddenly, it doesn't matter what kind of person Tony is expected to be according to paranormal nut-balls; suddenly, he's just Tony again, overly loyal, kind, _adorable_ Tony. And he's looking a lot like he's in front of a firing squad, a look that Gibbs never expected to pass over Tony's face in regards to _him_.

It makes Gibbs sad and determined at the same time, and he makes his decision, for better or for worse.

"So," he manages to choke out after a thirty second pause which he spent questioning his own sanity and trying to grow his balls back; but his voice comes out steady despite everything, "a vampire, huh?"

His teeth are grit and he feels like a complete weenie and total jackass in turns.

But his efforts are rewarded as what has to be the most brilliant smile in the universe crosses Tony's face, albeit one that still has a nervous edge to it.

Thankfully, Gibbs is too happy about that smile to freak out when Tony's fangs are high-lighted in the process.

* * *

><p>It takes further time still, an hour to be exact, before Gibbs manages to get his ass off the concrete floor of his basement, usher Tony back upstairs, get some coffee for them both (but mostly himself), and get them settled on a couch in the living room.<p>

By the end of that hour, his glare is back firmly on his face (for which he is glad), and coffee has resuscitated his iron-clad self.

As for Tony, well, he looks like he's about to be hung at the gallows, or maybe like he wants to dig a hole, jump in, and never come out, but Gibbs ignores that in favor prying answers out.

Besides, it actually makes Gibbs feel even more smug than usual because now it isn't just _Tony_ being cowed by him; it's a _vampire Tony_, who seems to still be the same guy but possibly more powerful than the average human since he _isn't one_.

Gibbs isn't going to lie; it boosts his ego more than he can say to have that sort of power over someone _supernatural_.

But now is not the time for that, although, the older man vows to milk this later on; however, now is the time for answers, and for the air to clear.

So, the ex-marine makes a show of making himself comfortable, levels a mildly irritated glare on his SFA, and says one word.

"Talk."

Tony just stares for a minute, looking lost as to how to approach this. Then he says, "I don't suppose there's any way out of this?"

To that, Gibbs merely raises an eyebrow, as though to say, 'What do _you_ think? Or are you really that stupid?'

Tony merely winces before finally sighing, a resigned look in his eyes. Gibbs can't help but watch in fascination as the man then proceeds to tuck his legs under himself, grab one the throw pillows that one of Gibb's exes had insisted upon, and hug it to himself as though it were the only thing between him and the nasty, horrible universe.

His SFA looks remarkably young and vulnerable, and if it weren't for the fact that Gibbs wants into his pants (he knows he wants _that_ much, atleast), the sight would have made all sorts of long-dead parental instincts rear their heads. As it is, it just makes Gibbs want to do whatever is necessary to make said other man feel better.

So he does, sort of.

With a sigh, the ex-Gunny gets up, makes his way over to the couch Tony has sequestered himself in, gives him a very light head-slap and sits next to him with a grunt. He wants to make the younger man feel better, wants to make him more comfortable with this situation; he just doesn't know how to go about it without letting Tony off the hook completely.

His instincts are split in two. There's a part of him that _wants_ to let Tony be for the night, atleast; and then there's the part that's pretty much telling him, in no uncertain terms, to get some goddamned answers, or else.

And it's becoming more and more clear if the day's events are anything to go by, inner battles have never been Leroy Jethro Gibbs' forte. Especially not where his person of interest, so to speak, is concerned. So while he wants to find a middle ground somewhere and set up the proverbial camp, he can't.

Thankfully though, it turns out that he doesn't have to do much of anything; Tony is suddenly taking things into his own hands curling into the ex-marine's side, relaxing almost imperceptibly once some physical contact is made. Under any other circumstances, Gibbs would have moved away slightly, and then he would have proceeded to mock Tony for wanting to cuddle.

But at this point, it seems almost cruel to do something like that, especially when he's forcing Tony to bare his soul and spill secrets that the other man is obviously not comfortable with spilling. He knows that he normally wouldn't have had any problems with being a jerk, but he figures that the second B in his name is just going to have to temporarily take a hike.

For now atleast, and only for a very short amount of time.

Just to be absolutely clear.

Besides, he sort of likes being this close to Tony; it's nice. He won't admit that to anyone else though, not even under the worst kinds of torture.

Not even if all the coffee in the world were at stake.

The older man allows himself a couple of minutes to savor the closeness and to allow Tony to gather his own thoughts; then he's back to prodding.

"So," he starts off, his voice coming out gruff yet uncharacteristically gentle, "You were saying?"

Tony just gives him a dazed look.

"I wasn't saying anything," he says bleakly, "Boss, I don't even know where to start."

And Gibbs just gives him a grin because he knows exactly what to say to _that_, atleast. "How bout you start at the beginning then?" and at Tony's supremely unamused look, he proceeds to start the conversation himself, "So, you're a vampire."

He can't even begin to describe how fucked up it is to have to say that and _mean_ it.

Tony, for his part simply nods, a haggard air to him. He sort of looks elated, as though he'd rather be doing anything else than doing this but is still relieved to be getting the secret off his chest. To be fair though, that last bit could just be wishful thinking on Gibbs' part.

Bah, before the he can really get into thinking about that sort of thing, he continues to prod his SFA, "And how did that happen?"

He's confused when Tony looks confused and asks, "What do you mean?"

Gibbs blinks before asking a little more impatiently, "Aren't you supposed to be bitten to be turned into a vampire? So when did that happen?"

And it's like a light goes off in Tony's head because he stiffens a little against Gibbs before a smile spreads across his face, quickly followed by a snicker.

It doesn't take much for Gibbs to figure out that he's being laughed at for the second time in the same day. But this time, when he delivers his head-slap, he almost smiles because Tony seems to be back to his overdramatic self.

"Boss! We've been over this! If I get a brain injury, I may not wake up from the next head-slap!"

Normally, Gibbs would have rolled his eyes and, perhaps, delivered one more. But this time, he's just curious about this whole thing. He gives Tony an appraising look and asks, "Can that happen? Can a human hurt a vampire?"

Tony, for his part, just gives him a look, "Just because we don't die from it doesn't mean that pain doesn't hurt, boss."

Gibbs levels the Tony with a look of his own, "And I'm supposed to know that, how?"

The older man I gratified when not only does Tony look sheepish, he also looks vaguely guilty. So the he finds it in himself to forgive Tony and move on.

"So tell me, DiNozzo. You're a vampire. How did that happen?"

His SFA merely shrugs at him, "I was born this way." And before his boss can get a word in edgewise, he continues on with, "Look. Whatever it is that you think you know about vampires? Ignore pretty much all of it. There are some things that are accurate-ish, but other than that, it's all myth."

"Like, the first myth is that vampires are 'made.' We're born like everyone else. When a mommy vampire and a daddy vampire love each other very much, they give each other a special hu—OW! Boss! What the hell!"

Gibbs just smirks as he moves his hand away from Tony's head, where he's just delivered _yet another head-slap_; at this rate, he's pretty sure that DiNozzo _will_ end up brain dead, after all. But hey, he'll never tell. Instead he rolls his eyes, suppresses his smirk from turning into a grin, and growls out, "I get it, DiNozzo. Move on. I already know how the birds and the bees work."

Tony, well, he gives his boss the stink-eye, rubbing at his head; but it's not long before he's going back to leaning on Gibbs and continuing, "As I was saying, we're born like everyone else, through an exchange of bodily fluids."

The silver haired can't help looking curious as he asks his next question, "So what happens when a vampire bites a human being?"

At that, the younger man looks a little saddened, as though expecting rejection for his answer, "Well, it depends. Vampire bites don't do anything in a normal situation; it's sort of like if _you_ were to bite someone cept vampire have sharper teeth and we actually, you know, suck blood out instinctively. But then again, the only reasons a vampire would bite someone is if it's in self-defense or to attack, or they need to feed. If it's an attack or a defense, then yeah, the recipient of the bite can die; fangs are used as a weapon then and we release a poison into the person we're biting that either paralyzes or kills depending on how threatened we feel."

By this point, Gibbs is completely roped in, "So what's the other scenario? The feeding one?"

Tony doesn't look at his boss when he answers, "That's one of the myths about vampires that's true, unfortunately. We need the blood of another being to survive." He shrugs, "It's untrue that we need to drain our donor to feel full though."

The older man blinks again, this time in consternation, "Donor?"

And Tony proceeds to look bitter, "Yeah, boss. Donor. As in someone who willingly bears their neck for a vampire in need. There are laws about drinking people when they don't wanna be drunk. And nowadays, people don't even matter; most vampires just go to blood banks anyway. They have all the blood we need."

Gibbs can't help but raise an eyebrow at the other man's, _vampire's_, defensiveness even as he quips.

"People did have to donate that blood ya know, DiNozzo. Blood doesn't magically appear."

Gibbs is trying to make the atmosphere a little lighter. It's mostly a failed attempt because dammit, this is not his job; it's Tony's. But the younger man cracks a small smile and belts out, "You know what I mean!" so Gibbs considers it a win.

He waits a few moments before continuing on, "You said something about laws?"

He almost wishes he hadn't asked when Tony gives him another bitter look.

"Yes, boss. Laws, made by a committee of vampires who've lived longer than most, who know what's going on with the world and pass laws accordingly." He scowls, "We're not heathens you know."

Gibbs knows that Tony thinks he's being condescending, and really, he has no way of knowing if Tony is thinking that way from past experiences or what. But still, he feels as though the tone isn't deserved because dammit, he's trying his best here. As much as it pisses him off to admit it, _he does not know better_, and Tony's just going to have to make some allowances for that.

He says as much to Tony, without using the actual words, and glares at him until the other man sighs and goes back to leaning on Gibbs' side.

"Sorry, sorry," he says, and once again, "I keep forgetting that you're only human. I keep forgetting that you can't know about these things because dammit, _you're human_."

Gibbs just shakes his head, fluffs up Tony's hair, ignores his squawk of resentment, and continues on. He still wants to know what the hell Tony means by that, by the whole 'forgetting that he's human' thing. I am _totally_ human, he wants to say, what else would I be? But he has more pressing questions to ask first.

"So what are the physical differences between vampires and humans, then?"

Tony grins, even as he fixes his hair.

"Well, to begin with, we're a helluva lot stronger than the average human," he says, and there's a glint in his eyes that tells Gibbs that this is a fact Tony enjoys immensely, "We're also a good bit faster and can take way more of a beating. We've also got better senses, better eyesight and hearing than humans."

Gibbs can't help but blink. Wait, he thinks, that doesn't even make sense…

How the hell is that supposed to be true? Unless….

So when Gibbs asks the next logical question, he looks and feels just a tiny bit pissed because his brain has supplied the only possible answer, "So why the hell are you the one with the highest record for getting hurt in the entire damned agency?"

His SFA looks gratifyingly embarrassed, "Because all those things only work when we're in good condition. We're just like humans in that aspect; we're only in good condition when we eat and exercise right."

Ok, so that's not the answer the silver-haired man is expecting; Tony doesn't say that it's to hide his identity like Gibbs expects him to.

But really, Gibbs just feels angrier when he hears the actual answer, his glare is just a little more lethal; he hates it when his agents (mostly Tony) refuse to take care of themselves.

Just as the former-Gunny is about to explode all over Tony, the younger man hastily offers his excuse, instinctively trying his damndest to mollify his pissed off boss, "Now Boss, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking how much more useful I could be if I were in peak vampire fitness. But here's the thing, I wouldn't be able to show any of that off even if I were able to do it, anyway! Vampire laws, you know! They make sure that we can't show off our vampirey skills even if we wanted to!"

Gibbs has to force himself to breathe through the nose just to stop himself from tackling the other man to the ground and beating him up, himself. He has to keep telling himself that it's not Tony's fault that he has so little self-worth. Just saying anything about it won't make Tony realize that though; the man is just too pig headed.

Another method is required, which Gibbs is more than capable of using.

"So, can vampires get sick?" he asks, as casual as though he were asking about the weather. He feels anything but casual though; he's like a cobra coiled to strike, a tiger ready to pounce. All Tony needs to do is take the bait and then it's a done deal.

Tony does, take the bait that is.

Hook, line, and sinker, right into the bottom-less pit of Gibbs' rage.

"Hmm…" he responds, speaking just as casually as Gibbs had and _meaning it_, "Well, yeah. I mean, I had the plague remember? We're fully capable of being sick. Although, to be fair, we usually only get the _real_ sicknesses. Like, we don't come down with a common cold. Only the most extremes of all diseases'll hit us. Like _really_ bad flu, typhoid, malaria," and with a pointed look, "plague, anthrax…."

And then Tony brightens up before quickly deflating, "We're pretty much like humans in one aspect though! Diseases target our immune systems when we're run down and when we don't…take..care…of…our…oh…."

Just for a second, Gibbs feels hope that maybe, just maybe, Tony does get it.

Then Tony opens his mouth, actually daring to look annoyed and says, "Seriously, Boss. I get it. But I already told you, even if I was in peak condition, I can't do anything in public. I can't run faster than a human with above average athletic skills, even if it _is_ to catch a crook. And I most certainly can't do _anything else_ vampire-ish unless there's _no one else around_. Which is a rare enough occurrence, no one being around I mean. I'm not even allowed to show McGeek or Ziva."

Gibbs tries one more time to breathe through his nose and remind himself that Tony is the victim here, because he's the one who's had his self-worth ripped out of him by his own father.

But this time, that doesn't work. He just explodes.

"God_dammit_, DiNozzo! Ya ever wonder if maybe, just maybe, someone is being concerned because they don't want you to _die_? Or what, you think that I'm sitting here, getting you to spill your guts about what's going on, because I feel like you're a liability to the _team_? Fucking Christ, Tony! I caught you throwing up blood, _twice_ now! I'm not doing this because it's _fun_."

He's so out of character, and so loud, that Tony actually looks freaked.

When Tony opens his mouth to speak again, it's with a whole lot of uncertainty in his voice.

"Boss, it's really not my fault this time," he says, looking miserable, "Like, for real this time."

He looks up at Gibbs, pleading for understanding in his eyes….

…and once again, Gibbs is taken in by his vulnerable look and merely grunts at him to continue (as opposed to beating the snot out of him and forcing foo—blood bank bags—down his throat). When Tony goes to pull away, he wraps an arm around the younger man and gives him a look.

"DiNozzo, I've had firsthand experience with watching you be self-destructive. It's not fun for me _or_ you, and I'm going to be mean about it because I like seeing you conscious and out of ditches. Now suck it up and tell me what's going on."

Through his speech, Gibbs can feel Tony slowly relaxing back into him, and he's grateful; it might even be worth it that he actually had to speak so much.

Come to think of it, he's spoken more tonight than he has in a long time. At this rate, his status as a functioning mute will be taken away and he'll be forced to_ converse..._ with _people_.

Damn, he needs to swear Tony to secrecy or something when all this is done and over with…

He doesn't snap out of his inner grumbling until Tony sort of _nuzzles in_ which, while nice, is completely out of character. As far as Gibbs is concerned, the nuzzling thing is ok as long as it never leaves the house; but the fact that _Tony_ seems to think it's ok is a little bit concerning. Tony's always been very careful of keeping Gibbs happy; and as far as the universe is concerned, Gibbs is not happy when in close physical proximity with people who aren't Abby. As a result, Tony's always kept some space between him and his boss, even when Gibbs just wants to shake him a little for being so stupid; even when all he wants to do is throw his SFA down and fuck him until…well, actually Gibbs never wants to stop.

He wants to keep on fucking the other man forever.

That's it.

Well, he wants to do other things too, he's pretty sure, but he hasn't figured any of that out yet.

Bah.

Digressions aside though, this change in behavior, in addition to the fact that Tony is ill, is making Gibbs tetchy; he wants to get to the bottom of this and ASAP.

The older man doesn't even bother to be subtle when he says, "So tell me, what's going on? Why isn't it your fault that you aren't taking care of yourself?"

He waits with bated breath for an answer, feels the seconds ticking by as Tony sighs.

"A part of it is a quirk of vampire biology, and the other part is a quirk of _my_ biology."

Gibbs simply raises an eyebrow, nodding at the younger man to continue, which Tony does with a melodramatic sigh.

"As a rule, a vampire's body can only accept one type of blood, like A-, B+, that sort of thing. That is, unless the vampire gets mated to a human; then their type becomes whatever blood type their mate is. It's really actually fucked up if you think about it but the human gets perks out of it too, so it's all good. For a little bit of blood, they get to stay whatever age they happen to be as long as they're mated to the vampire! It's almost unfair, I'd say, except I guess that mated vampires are happy to keep their mates for as long as they're alive."

Gibbs puts a stop to his babbling with a light swat.

"Right," Tony says in response, "Anyway, yours truly happens to be compatible with AB- blood only, a rare compatibility; unfortunately, the blood type itself is rare too because only two percent of the population has that blood type or something. It's a little hard for me to feed, so as you can see, it's not my fault."

The ex- Gunny simply raises an eyebrow in response, sounding a little sarcastic as he speaks, "And what happened to that whole blood bank idea? Not fancy enough for you or what? Because I'm pretty sure they have a supply of that."

Tony actually looks embarrassed as he responds, "And that would be _my_ biological quirk." And as he turns away, "It turns out that I'm allergic to blood that's out of the human body. I don't drink blood bank blood that often because I _can't_. I only do it when I'm desperate, like really desperate, and even then, my body rejects it. I…"

And suddenly Gibbs gets it. "Throw up. You throw it right back up," he says, a look of enlightenment in his eyes.

Tony, looking surprised even though he shouldn't after the incident in the basement, nods, "Yeah. Or it makes me really ill. Usually both."

But the ex-marine is too busy making connections to really pay attention to that last bit.

"But, you just said you avoid blood bank bags," he starts slowly as he chews it through, "But that's twice today that you threw up today alone, and that's not counting god knows how many times before today. You tried blood from the bank _twice_ today?" His eyes are piercing into Tony's by this point, suspicion and a small amount of anger leaking through, "Why would you do that?"

The fact that the younger man looks away before answering sets warning bells off in Gibbs' head.

"Because I became desperate a few weeks ago, Gibbs," the laugh that Tony lets out sounds a little hysterical, "Actually, I've been desperate all my life; I just happened to _pass_ desperate a few weeks ago."

He sounds equal parts resigned and furious as he hisses through his teeth, "I can't keep going like this. My body is going to break down at the worst possible time and I'm going to get someone killed. And…and…why the hell are you smiling?"

And Gibbs _is_, smiling that is. To be frank, he knows something that the other man doesn't know, something that could fix all of this and then some.

And he really can't help but grin even further at the indignant tone that's leaked into his SFA's voice because damn, it's _cute_. The situation is definitely serious, and if what Tony is saying, the younger man might actually be dying.

He really shouldn't be acting so relaxed, and he most certainly shouldn't be grinning from ear to ear.

Except…

Well...he has all the answers to Tony's problem(s?).

He waits a few more seconds, letting the other man squirm a little as his grin grow even wider despite himself, before finally breaking the news.

"Well, guess what vampire-boy?" he says, a twinkle in his eye, "You're in luck."

And just as Tony's face goes slack with an odd mix of shock and confusion, he delivers the punch-line.

"Guess who just so happens to be AB-?"

* * *

><p>The look on Tony's face as he says it is hysterical to say the least, albeit a bit heart-breaking. It's one part stark raving fear, one part as though he's just found the Holy Grail, and one part as though he were a starving man thinking of stealing the last bit of food from little children, hungry and guilty for it. It should be freaky and, for all intents and purposes, Gibbs should be getting the fuck away.<p>

But, well, let it never be said that he doesn't have balls of steel.

Tony merely stares for a bit before tentatively speaking out, "Are…are you serious?"

And even though his instincts are screaming at him to kill the vampire (with_ fire and guns_) and leave, Gibbs just nods and simply says, "Yup." This is _his_ _Tony_ dammit; his instincts can collectively go and jump off a cliff.

But Tony just doesn't seem to get it because he keeps going, "You mean that you're…."

"Mmhmm, " Gibb answers, patiently enough.

"And…." Tony asks again, still look as though he's about to expire from the shock.

And now Gibbs is starting to get a little annoyed but he understands that Tony needs to wrap his head around this. So, he answers with a simple, "_Yes_."

He kindly leaves out the, 'Idiot.' But it's pretty much implied though.

He's willing to put up with Tony the way he's always been willing to put up with Tony, grudgingly but unerringly, but that doesn't mean that he'll put up with it _nicely_.

Things continue on that vein. Gibbs is being tolerant, and he would've continued for a little while longer, but then Tony opens his mouth and says something utterly stupid. At that, all bets are off. "Still though boss, I'm allergic to blood that's been out of the body. Assuming that you're offering to essentially _feed_ me for a _very long time_, I won't be able to do it anyway."

Gibbs is pissed as hell. Here he is, being totally out of character and kind to Tony even though the man is obviously no longer a child, and Tony _still _doesn't get it.

It fucking _figures_.

But still, the silver haired man doesn't allow himself to explode; he figures that he should've expected a response like that out of his emotionally stunted _whatever_, anyway.

So, he simply sighs, allowing the anger to slide out, before head-slapping Tony for what has to be the umpteenth time and clarifying, "That, DiNozzo, is why you feed directly off of me. I'm willing to do it," and he has to grit his teeth for the last bit, "for however long it takes for you to find your mate."

This time he can't help adding on a growled out, "Moron."

Tony, instead of replying, just stares. Hell, he doesn't even respond to the moron bit.

And Gibbs, well, he finds himself a tad disappointed because he'd expected exclamations of joy and jumping around and all those other Tonyish things that he normally has to put up with over the smallest bit of good news. But it's like the other man is in shock or something. Hell, he can't be positive but Gibbs is pretty sure that Tony isn't actually breathing anymore.

So, he tries his best to cut through the awkward moment with what even he can admit is a lame attempt at a joke, even though he's actually being sort of serious, "It won't make me pass out, right?"

Actually, fact of the matter is that he means every word, not that he'll retract his offer of offering himself as breakfast, lunch, and dinner to his suddenly vampiric…whatever you call someone you lust after and occasionally stalk...even if it means that he'll end up fainting like a wuss. He just wants to be prepared, like a good marine, for all eventualities and be in a position where he can fob it off as manfully passing out at the very least, if it comes down to it.

Apparently though, Tony's too dazed to answer.

But, when he finally does, it only pisses Gibbs off and makes him eat his words.

_Again_.

The ex-marine could swear that the younger just said _no_. But Tony couldn't _possibly_ be that stupid, right? He couldn't possibly be stupid enough to say no having his life saved, right? He couldn't _possibly_ be refusing what amounts to _life's blood, literally, _right?

Just in case, he once again dons his best marine gunny glare and razes Tony with it, "Come again?"

* * *

><p><strong>End Chapter AN: **I HOPE YOU LIKED! And remember, **R and R**! Who knows, give me enough incentive *nudge nudge* and I might post sooner!


End file.
